Two lives

She wants to walk,
but wants to sit.
She wants to laugh,
but wants to cry.
She wants to write,
but wants to fly.

And, then, she wonders,
Two things at the same time,
Is it possible,
or is it just plain indecisiveness.

Left alone, she is a magician,
weaving her craft with silken beauty.
Gazing at the stars and the walls between,
she unleashes her energy,
attaining glory every second.

But then again, she seems lost in the crowd.
With the chaos and the networks, 
Disliking it and being in it.
She chuckles, "How is that possible?"

Is it the two lives?